I enter the house and see a gorgeous man glaring at my father. If looks could kill my father would be six feet under and I for one would not show up to his funeral. To be honest I doubt anyone would. Does my father even have any actual friends besides the people he gets high with?
My father is a monster. He's like the monster who lives under my bed. The monster who started my torture. The monster who made me feel weak and vulnerable. The monster who took the only person who loved me away. Does he even have any humanity left?
He took away my mother...
My mother was my besfriend. The one who I can trust and rely on. We hid no secrets from each other. She was the only person I would open up to. She was the most beautiful and sweetest person in the world. My mother was my everything.
The strange man turns towards my direction. I gulp. His eyes caught onto mine. There was something about his eyes that made me feel as if I can trust him and I'll be safe.The man slowly walks up to me and my breath hitches causing a smirk forming on his face. What is it with guys and smirking?
He grabs my wrist tightly. I wince in pain. Ugh, I'm going to have to cover up my wrist knowing there are going to be bruises. He drags me into my bedroom. Wait, how does he know where my room is? What a pedophile!
He slams the door causing me to jump...
"Your pathetic father borrowed money from me, but doesnt have the money to pay me back," he spoke calmly. He has quite a deep and soothing voice, but not as attractive as Ashton's. Wait! what did I just say?
Count on me to have the most unrelevant thoughts in a situation like this. Ugh, fuck my life.
I snap out of my thought remembering that there is a weird man standing in the middle of my bedroom staring at me.
Who is this man?
What does my father's problem have to do with me?
Does this man even know im mute?
And lastly, is this where I get murdered?
Just in case, goodbye shity world. I would say I will miss you, but I was taught to never lie.
"By the look of your face I can tell you have a lots of questions and don't understand whats going on. Am I correct?"
I nod in response.
"Let me clear everything for you. My name is James. Im nineteen and the gang leader of the black angels. Your father can't pay me back, so instead he gave you to me. I basically now own you. I do know your mute and no, you are not about to be murdered."
Wow he answered all my questions. Is this guy psychic or some Shit? He probably is.
The thing that most surprised me the most, besides James maybe being psychic is that my father sold me to a stranger, like he could be a rapist or something and my father wouldn't know. Does my father really hate me that much? Actually, dont answer that. I already know the answer.
If your wondering why im not freaking out, its because im not scared. The only person im scared of is my father and no one else.
If James really wanted me to be scared of him, torture wouldn't work. Torture is basically the definition of my life. Even if James held a gun to my head I wouldn't be scared. Actually instead I would probably be begging him to pull the trigger. It would end all of my pain and misery.
I look up at James. He has a big and bulky structure compared to mine. I know that im bellow average, but this guy makes me feel even smaller. He's basically a giant. He looks about 6'3.
James has dirty blond hair, which is slightly permed. It looks so soft. I wonder what products he uses. I know im weird, but you cant blame me. His hair looks amazing.
James's eyes are gorgeous just like the rest of him. They are a deep, dark blue. They remind me of the ocean at night. Just by looking into his eye's, I can see he hides his emotions, secrets and past behind them. What has he been through?
I look down at his outfit. Its quite cliche actually. James is wearing a white shirt, with the top three buttons undone, black jeans, sneakers, and of course a black leather jacket. I must admit, he looks hot, but not as hot as Ashton. Why does he keep popping into my head?
James asked me to pack all of my essential things and he'll get some people to pick up the rest of my stuff. I don't really have much things anyways.
I head downstairs about to leave, but before I do I look around the house. At one point I did see this building as a home, but now its the key to my memories of the torture and nightmares.
I hope my new life is better...
YOU ARE READING
I fall onto the floor. Why do I have to be clumsy? I hear my father wake up. He sits up and sees me. His eyes are drilling into mine. I now know I'm just good as dead... My father stalks towards me and I'm too scared to move. He grabs my hair pullin...